


Final edge

by Onki (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, M/M, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 09:11:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14422203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Onki
Summary: Lance stumbles across the expelled boy in a bar.





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, isn’t that Keith?” Hunk pointed to Lance’s left, who immediately whipped his head towards the general area, eyes searching for the boy.

“Don’t you know subtlety?!” Hunk hissed out, covering his eyes in embarrassment.

“Oh. Yes, that,” Lance turned back again, looking down at his drink again. However, the burning desire to see the boy didn’t die down, so as carefully as he can, he repositioned himself against the bar, drink in hand. He looked to the left again.

And there he was. Keith – the loner boy. Expelled, despite his top scores in piloting classes. _Why_ he was expelled was never a public knowledge – except for the vague ‘behavioral problems ’, but all the peers at the Galaxy Garrison made up conspiracy after another, each one more ridiculous.

He must’ve noticed eyes on him, because he looked up, scanning the room quickly, before landing on Lance.

And that was Lance’s queue to approach him. For what? He had no idea. He just felt like he needed to. He heard Hunk’s hushed pleas of stopping, but he didn’t pay heed to his rumblings.

“Hey, you probably know me, but name’s Lance. Lance McClain if you’re feeling fancy,” Lance slid against the booth. Although the Garrison cadets were all in their uniform, to at least be a little more attractive than a sack of potatoes, Lance let few buttons from top of his shirt loose.

Keith just took his drink and threw it back, chugging it all, before walking out of the bar.

Lance could hear soft ‘Ouch’ coming from Hunk a few meters away. Refusing to admit defeat Lance quickly threw few bucks to Hunk, before trotting after Keith.

“Hey, what the hell! That was rude,” Lance caught up in the streets.

The little town they were at wasn’t cooling down as the night fell over it. Overheated rocks from the day still emanated the collected warmth back.

When no answer came from the other boy, Lance reached towards his forearm to stop him.

As soon as he touched him, Lance didn’t even register what was happening to him, until his face was mashed against the dusty brick wall against one of the buildings, arm twisted against his back.

“Who sent you,” Keith ground up against his teeth, his hand against Lance’s neck digging in deeper.

“Hold up. Chill, chill, chill!” Lance panicked, flailing his other free arm, smacking it against Keith’s side. “No one sent me! What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Then why are you following me?” His aggression seemed to go down, but Lance could still hear it from his voice.

When Lance couldn’t come up with an answer, he felt his arm getting twisted more.

“Hey, man! Jesus! That hurts! Why would _anyone_ send someone after you?” Lance was close to whimpering from pain. Sweat broke over his forehead, his palms were sweaty as well, knees weakening.

“Who’re you,” his hold weakened, which Lance used to slip away. He immediately stood at defensive position, hand up in fists. Maybe he just needed to stay the fuck away from Keith. Maybe he really was a nut job and got expelled for it. Damn his curiosity. Was he really going to get killed in this smelly alleyway in this god-forsaken town in a middle of nowhere?

“Look, dude. I don’t know what the hell happened to you in a span of few months here. But I was just curious, okay?” Lance tried to wave his palms downwards, like he did with horses back at his home. As impossible as it sounded, it seemed to be slowly working with Keith, as he slowly loosened his tight shoulders, hands going down with them. “So, we okay now? Can I just go and expect you to not stab me in the back?”

At that Keith slightly cringed, nose scrunching up a little bit.

“I wouldn’t stab you,” he breathed out, as if relieved, stepping back.

“Oh, wow, am I supposed to be grateful for that? ‘Hello, sir, thank you for not putting knife into me. So grateful, here have my firstborn’,” Lance couldn’t help his mouth going off, as his adrenaline rush died down as well. He finally lowered his guard as well – if only slightly, to wipe away his sweaty palms against his pants.

Keith only snorted at that.

“Sorry. I just… overreacted,” he supplied, running his fingers over his ridiculous hair. Lance could see a lone bead of sweat running down his face. Why would he be nervous as well? He clearly had an upper hand in combat.

“You cadet at Galaxy?” Keith finally seemed to notice Lance’s garb.

“Wow, that hurts more than you shoving me against a wall. We talked several times during training sessions back at the Garrison!” Lance raised his eyebrows, waiting for Keith to remember.

“Nothing comes to my mind,” Keith said, as he looked around.

“Are you okay though?” Lance actually got concerned for a moment, the other boy seemed to be really agitated.

“Yeah, why do you care?” Again the prickliness. It reminded Lance of a cornered animal, hissing at everything and everyone.

“Dude, I know I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. But it really seems like you need someone to talk to?” Lance tried his best disarming smile, which worked with all of his sulking siblings. Being the middle child turned him into an excellent negotiator and counselor - when no one wanted to talk, he somehow always managed to coax people to talk.

Keith threw a quick glance backwards again, before focusing on Lance. His face was unreadable, yet he seemed to be more at ease.

“Thanks for concern, but I really need to go. You do not want to be seen with me,” and just like that he walked away, leaving Lance to ponder what the boy had been up to all these months.


	2. Chapter 2

“Earth to Lance,” Hunk waved his hand in front of Lance’s face.

“Did you say he walked after that Keith guy? I wonder what happened afterwards,” Pidge snickered, throwing mischievous grins over her data pad.

“C’mon, guys, I already told you. That dude went totally psycho on me and pushed me against a wall!” Lance bit back, as he stabbed the broccoli he was previously poking with disinterest.

“Uh-huh, we don’t need all the steamy details,” Hunk made a scene of sipping from his carton of milk.

“Hunk, not you too!” Lance groaned, theatrically throwing his hands in the air.

“But you said he was nervous?” Pidge asked after calming down.

“Yeah, I mean I don’t know. Seemed like he was avoiding someone? Also what’s up with that ‘You do not want to be seen with me’? Does he think he’s in some sort of a movie?” Lance gestured around with his fork, making the gravy fly everywhere around him.

“You’re so hideous he doesn’t even want to be seen with you,” Pidge helpfully added, wiping away the mess on her screen from Lance with her sleeve, “I mean heard people talking that he lives alone in a shack? How could he possibly be sane though? But on the other side, I’d gladly live in a shack as long as I have internet and my pad.”

“What did he even do to get expelled?”

“Heard he became really weird after that Takeshi dude went MIA.”

“Oh, yeah, that Takeshi. Weren’t they always together? Damn must’ve been devastating.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry, Pidge,” Lance suddenly remembered Pidge’s brother was gone with them as well.

Pidge went still, before returning a tight smile, “It’s fine.”

They spent the rest of the breakfast in silence: Hunk reading materials from his pad, Pidge typing into hers with more vigor, and Lance – well, him thinking about the previous evening.

Noon came around and the sun was as relentless as yesterday, grilling everything around. When Lance looked outside the window, not a single living soul was there, only occasional tumbleweed rolling, like in western movies.

“Man, why even give us a week off in such a dump of a town?” he complained, dragging his feet towards the AC, putting it on the lowest setting.

“Be happy you got one. Do you know how many lines of code I wrote here, instead of wasting my time during the class?” Pidge tried fanning herself, but it only made her more exhausted from the effort.

“We don’t even get to bring our clothes!” Lance continued, digging through his bag for a fresh shirt.

“We didn’t bring those to the garrison to begin with, Lance,” Hunk faintly reminded him from the floor, “I feel like my life is draining from me.”

Thankfully, the AC seemed to start doing what it was supposed to be doing since morning, whirring to life, blowing the blissful cold air to them.

“Hunk, I love you,” Lance sighed out, before plowing down on the bed.

If not for Hunk’s tinkering with the AC, they would’ve probably been stuck in a microwave of a room for the rest of the stay. For that Lance was grateful with his whole existence.

“What should we do today, though?” Lance should just go out and buy a new shirt already.

“How about we just stay here, and you can go out and venture into the unknown?” Pidge tartly chirped from her corner.

“Aren’t we supposed to be accountable for each other? What if someone kidnaps me?” Lance continued, listing off all the possible ways it could go wrong.

“There are roughly around four thousand people in this town, you think anyone would care enough for all that? Besides if you scream for help, we could probably hear you from the any part of the town, so – no worries,” Pidge jumped from her bed for the water pitcher, from which she started to drink directly. No glass. Such savagery. Lance looked at her unimpressed, before putting on a new shirt and throwing the drenched one into the hamper.

“God, you guys are no fun at all.”

And that’s how he found himself at the nearest city park in the evening with a cone of ice cream in one hand, sitting on a bench. How did youth bear this monotonous life was beyond Lance’s comprehension. He was about to head back to the hotel, when he spotted the familiar jacket from the previous night.

“Hey, Keith!” He yelled out, waving at the other teen, who sharply turned around, glaring around, before spotting Lance.

“Yo, Keith, what are you doing here?” Lance yelled again, which made Keith scramble towards him. And it was hilarious.

“Will you shut the hell up?!” Keith hissed out, face red from anger. He looked back where he stood few seconds ago, before his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Great. They’re gone,” he sighed, looking up the sky in frustration.

“Want to sit here? Park’s ice cream seems nice,” Lance shuffled to make room for Keith.

“Do I look like I need your damn ice creams?” Keith glared at him, crossing his arms in front of him, “Didn’t you get the message yesterday? I clearly told you to stay away! And now you ruined everything!”

“What did I even ruin? And who’s ‘they’?” Lance’s voice grew louder as well, “You keep accusing me of things I don’t even know I did! I’m just trying to be nice to you, Jesus.”

Appetite completely gone, he threw the cone into the nearest trash bin, before crossing his arms as well. Two could play a game.

Keith seemed to crumble first from their little glaring session – he sat beside him, still with that pissed off face.

“Why are you obsessed being nice to me anyway?” he managed to push out of himself.

“Because that’s a polite thing to do?” Lance’s momma did _not_ raise a caveman, like Keith here. But it was growing impossible by seconds now.

“Fine, since you won’t lay off,” Keith grumbled, posture sinking into the bench, making him look more like a petulant child than anything else.

And now that Lance got permission for whatever Keith gave him permission for, he had no idea how to proceed. But, thankfully, the other boy seemed to keen on initiating the talk this time.

“How’s Garrison,” he spat out the last word like a venom.

“Uh, fine? As usual. Morning drills, classes, training. We got a week off right now, actually.”

“Really,” Keith deadpanned, looking at him with an uninterested stare.

“Now you’re just being an asshole,” Lance threw his arms on the back of the bench, lounging back as well, “So, why did you get kicked out, though? People seem to keen on just making up stories.”

“I punched a superior,” he simply answered, as if that was a usual occurrence.

“That’s it? And what are you doing in this town anyway? The only people that live here seem to be some old hippies and elderly.”

“It’s—its’ personal,” Keith looked sideways. As he did so, his sleeve rode up, revealing half of a tattoo on his forearm.

“Whoa, dude, you got a tattoo? Is it a new one?” Lance perked up, trying to take a closer look. It was forbidden to have anything on their bodies at the Garrison, so, yes, it was really interesting for Lance.

Keith suddenly  stood up at that, pushing down his jacket as low as it could.

“I should go. Next time, don’t call me like an idiot,” he said, before jumping over the bench and disappearing deep into the woods.

“Showoff,” Lance grouched after him, before checking time on his watch.

Oh, crap, his curfew.

**Author's Note:**

> mom spaghet


End file.
